My mother dated Brian in the 1990s and kept in contact with him until her death. We lived downstairs for my Junior and Senior years in high school (Proctor class of 1993). Brian was a very sweet man and REALLY loved music. He spent his weekends trolling the local garage sales in search of vinyl (a.k.a "records") and had amassed quite a collection of rare/vintage prints, as well as a good all around collection of R&B, Doo Wop, and other oldies. I spent quite a bit of time talking music and sound with him. It was around this time I also took my interest in music to the next tier, picking up guitar and starting to craft my own music. 22+ years later I'm still recording and releasing original music, and some of it even with my best friend from Utica (same graduation class). Brian was an integral part of in helping me appreciate music on a deeper level, even if he only thought of my favorite genres as "album rock".
He also had a strange (well, I found it strange) collection of women's shoes. Maybe he was a closet fashion designer? ;-)
I know he had one great aunt (?) who was getting up there in years when I knew him, but aside form that he had few friends and family. His life was often governed by severe migraine headaches, the medicine that made it bearable to exist would often wipe him out for a day or more. Many specialists looked at his problem but only seemed to be able to treat the symptoms.
It's a shame to think that my own existence will be similarly here-and-gone when my time comes. But it's at least my duty to carry Brian on in memory, the one heart he truly touched in his time on this planet. Hopefully someone has something nice to say about me someday too.
He also had a strange (well, I found it strange) collection of women's shoes. Maybe he was a closet fashion designer? ;-)
I know he had one great aunt (?) who was getting up there in years when I knew him, but aside form that he had few friends and family. His life was often governed by severe migraine headaches, the medicine that made it bearable to exist would often wipe him out for a day or more. Many specialists looked at his problem but only seemed to be able to treat the symptoms.
It's a shame to think that my own existence will be similarly here-and-gone when my time comes. But it's at least my duty to carry Brian on in memory, the one heart he truly touched in his time on this planet. Hopefully someone has something nice to say about me someday too.
